Chapter Text
`“-So, we have Transfiguration, Defense against the Dark Arts-”
“Mhmm, mhmm.”
By the time the Great Hall was filled with students, Everett and Benjamin had already taken seconds, filling their bellies with whatever they could get their hands on.
“-Potions, and Herbology.” Benjamin finished, taking another piece of bacon in his mouth, savouring the chewing.
Their quiet time at breakfast was quickly interrupted when more and more students joined them.
It was now 8, or around that time, and students were starting to get hungry. The professors were starting to line up, slugging away at starting their breakfasts. As for Everett and Benjamin, they were on their second round of food, now that everything was prepared.
The two had shared the same timetable, and Everett was excited. Transfiguration, as the first class, he rather liked the idea of it. Now that the summer had passed, he was ready to do a few spells. Lumos, he had gotten the hang of. Reparo was his favourite. He had fixed a dozen things around his house, and the idea of it made him crave more.
“Right, have you read over the books?” Everett asked softly, on their own end of the table, as more Slytherins began to join them. Nott sat nearby, looking refreshed as he also looked at his schedule. He had half a mind to invite him over, but he looked too concentrated.
“Uh, no.” He said immediately, going back to stabbing a piece of sausage with a fork. Wait-what fork was it?
“You’re using the wrong fork.” He blurted out as Benjamin stalled.
“I’m-what?”
“The wrong fork. That’s uh - uhm, I don’t know what fork it is, but I know it's wrong.” He whispered, as Benjamin twisted the fork in his hand, before placing it down.
He stared, long and hard, at Everett before bursting into laughter. A few people at the other tables turned their heads and looked at him, but he didn’t pay any attention.
“Oh, that’s a good one, Winters, you’re a - aha, a funny git!” He said, before placing the sausage in his mouth.
“No, I’m serious-” Everett whispered, “Remember this morning, Beauvallet?” he stressed out, as Benjamin continued to chew.
Everett felt red, looking around. Nott was staring at them, a pensive look on his face, like he was thinking. Did he know? He must’ve known. Everett grabbed the dinner fork and calmly chewed his own sausage, the meat crushed between his teeth. It tasted divine, and he quickly picked at one with the same fork.
Benjamin said nothing, continuing to use the same fork, and Everett felt himself grow slightly hot, his back itching as his mouth went dry. He should have known what it meant now, if it was truly such a big problem with these ‘Purebloods,’, he thought. On cue, he felt a pair of eyes on him, and he noticed Nott intently staring at them. First his eyes tilted to Benjamin, who struggled to cut up a piece of salami, then at him. Everett felt a rush of panic, remembering earlier that morning. He picked up one of the glasses of juice, taking a sip, trying to hide his frown, but he tried to look away, as he felt Notts eyes. The boy stared again, his look piercing through Everett, as he felt his heart start to beat. Benjamin, however, continued to stab at the piece of salami, swirling it around as he played. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a swift kick, he nudged Benjamin over, the boy looking up at him, mouth open with food inside. Everett felt himself go red before he looked over back at Nott, who wasn’t staring at them anymore but was eating his own food. Everett sighed before going back to eating.
Thud - He heard, followed by a sharp pain in his leg. He looked back up, staring at Benjamin.
‘What was that for?’ He whispered, before Benjamin shrugged.
‘Even’ he mouthed, before going back to eating.
The two continued to eat, the chatter in the hall growing as more people joined the breakfast. The Ravenclaw table was almost full, as was the Hufflepuff one. Gryffindors and Slytherins slowly staggered in, as he felt a weight settle beside him.
It was Daphne who looked - a mess?
“Good morning.” He said softly, the girl beside him sagging down.
“Mmm.” She replied gruffly. He heard the faint sound of a smothered laugh, and he looked across the table to see Benjamin, holding his hand across his mouth in a fist.
“Are-are you okay?” He asked, the fork tilting in his hands.
“Uh-huh.” Daphne said, and he noticed bags under bags beneath her eyes. Not a morning person, clearly. He was about to press when he heard the fluttering of wings, and suddenly, bundles of paper were dropping on the table. Everett tried to hide his look of shock - this was how the post was delivered? It seemed odd, as parcels and papers and letters were just flung onto the table - crushing the food! Sauces and Breads splashed around, a puff of cinnamon hitting Everett in the face, as he gasped in horror. What a waste! Everett didn’t know how to react, as he quickly brought more items onto his plate. What an inefficient system!
“Hmm? The post…” Daphne said quietly, before she quickly grabbed one of the papers. He’d never seen someone so excited for the news. Everett leaned over, his eyes skimming the paper as Daphne read it. Suddenly, she brought it closer to him, holding it still - without a word.
__________________________________________________
THE BOY WHO LIVED: FIRST DAY AT HOGWARTS; Exclusive Photos; Harry Potter enters Hogwarts’
The wizarding world stirred with excitement yesterday as Harry Potter, famously known as The Boy Who Lived, arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to begin his first year of magical education. Witnesses report that the young wizard was spotted crossing the castle grounds alongside fellow first-years, appearing both curious and reserved as whispers followed his passage. Ministry officials declined comment, but many parents and students alike expressed hope that Potter’s presence signals a brighter era for the wizarding community. Sources within the castle confirm that staff remain committed to providing him with a normal school experience despite his extraordinary past.
Break-In Mystery Deepens: What was stolen? Gringotts Refuses to Confirm Contents of Vault 713
Speculation continues to mount following reports of a security breach at Gringotts Wizarding Bank, where goblin officials confirmed an attempted break-in targeting the highly protected Vault 713. While bank representatives insist that nothing was taken, they have firmly refused to disclose the vault’s contents, citing longstanding confidentiality protocols. Ministry sources describe the incident as “unusual but contained,” noting the formidable security measures surrounding the bank. Rumours circulating across Diagon Alley suggest the vault held an object of significant magical value, though authorities have declined to verify these claims as the investigation remains ongoing.
__________________________________________________
The Front page continued on, more pages, but everywhere there was chatter. Harry Potter, Harry Potter, that name again. The boy who lived? Was everyone not living? He wondered what it meant, and he looked at Benjamin, who was currently digging into a Parfait without a care in the world. Already, he heard whispering when he heard something across the table.
“Famous Harry Potter can’t go one day without the headlines on him.” Grumbled a familiar voice, it was that - that Malfoy kid, what was his name, - ah, Draco! Sitting sourly across the table, his ears red as he took an angry bite of some blueberry waffles. He had no idea what was going on as he read through the paper some more. But he heard another huff from Draco, and he looked closer.
“He’s been in this world a few months, and suddenly, he thinks he’s the next Merlin! I mean - ridiculous, my father will be furious.” He grumbled again to the two larger boys who sat near him.
Harry Potter, he still didn’t know who that was. Well, he knew who he was - he had seen him, once on the train, then again at the sorting. Gryffindor, if he recalled. He turned around, watching as the boy tried to hide himself, as the chatter in the Great Hall went wild.
“Harry Potter!”
“It’s Harry Potter!"
“I still can’t believe it!”
He heard, and he saw the poor Harry turn red, snuggling himself between his friend and the paper. Odd. His eyes shifted to Benjamin, who was looking at Harry Potter too, but unlike Malfoy, he was looking at him with some sort of amazement. So was Daphne, too, briefly, before she went back to reading the paper.
He could not help but stare at the boy at the Gryffindor table, almost like a thousand different eyes on him, and, blushing furiously, Potter had been covering himself up, rather poorly. For a brief second, it seemed like the two had locked eyes, but Everett couldn’t tell what made him special.
Just a boy, like everyone else around them, he wasn’t muscular and didn’t look like someone who should be on the news.
But everyone knew who he was, everyone but Everet-
“Attention first Years! Your morning classes start in fifteen minutes. I suggest you get to your rooms, or you’ll be late.
Just like that, the hall erupted again, and not wanting to be late, Everett had stood up - nearly falling down as his legs locked with the benches below him, a bit of juice falling as the Slytherin table got up and checked for their belongings.
“Transfiguration?” Everett asked, Daphne, nodding as he followed, swaying past him and towards the entrance. He locked eyes with Benjamin, who stood next to him.
“You’ll have to tell me about Harry Potter.” He whispered, only for Benjamin to chuckle. “Right, muggleborn.” He said to himself as the two walked out of the hall.
-=-=-=-
The two had found the classroom with little difficulty, following after the other Slytherins seemed to be the best course of action. As twisty and maze-like as the Hogwarts hallways were, it was easy with everyone else also looking for the same class.
The staircases moved, but it turned out they didn’t need to go up the stairs, which was a relief. Both Benjamin and Everett had almost climbed up the thing before realizing that the rest of the crowd was walking away. The paintings talked to them as they walked by, which made Everett wonder. If he were painted, could he talk to himself? The thought was brushed away as they had actually found the room. The group debated whether they went in or not, before Granger had opened the door and just waltzed right in.
It was a strange setup, all the Gryffindors - there were only Gryffindors next to the Slytherins - were on one side of the room, chattering loudly. He looked around, and many of the kids he recognized from the sorting. The famous Harry Potter was one of them, who decided to sit next to an Orange-haired boy, who looked familiar as well. Not far from them was that same girl from the train, that Hermione Granger, he remembered. Muggleborn, he thought. Did she know that it was a negative thing? To be a muggleborn? He wanted to go over and talk to her, just to ask. He didn’t mean to out her as one, although it wasn’t a bad thing, he was a muggleborn! But here it was a bad thing, or at least in Slytherin, it was. Was it because of that hunting thing that Benjamin had mentioned, or were there other reasons? It was interesting, he told himself, as he walked by. And ridiculous.
The Slytherins were on the other side, Benjamin and he looking for an empty seat. Daphne had found a seat with some of the girls; he thought her name was Pansy, and Draco was sitting with the two big kids. He kept walking, almost stumbling into one of the kids, before squeezing past a table.
They found a seat in the middle-right; not too close up, and certainly not all the way in the back. Everett felt comfy. The first thing Everett noticed was that it looked like a normal classroom, at least to him. More elegant than any classroom he’d been in, this was Hogwarts, but still a classroom. The seats had the same feel as his other chairs, and the wooden tables were still just wood. The second thing he noticed was a cat, perched upon a table. His brows furrowed as his tongue swirled inside his mouth for a brief second.
He knew that cat! It seemed to lock eyes on everything, but nothing at the same time, as Benjamin sighed next to him. He stared at the cat, it was at his house - maybe McGonagall's cat, that would make sense. He pulled out his books, his thumb brushing the edges of the cover, the worn leather brittle underneath his hand, as a slight flake fell off, landing on the ground.
The chatter in the room was loud as Benjamin brought out his own books. They were newer, still in their wrapping as he tore it off, crumpling it up before placing it on the edge of his table. It was at that point that Everett was wondering where McGonagall was.
When suddenly. The cat leaped off the table, and within a second, there was no cat, but an old woman, standing straight in front of the class. There were a variety of gasps around, and Everett himself buckled in surprise.
Abubhwah?
“Good morning, class.” Came the familiar voice of Professor McGonagall, a firm tone that Everett had come to associate with the professor.
Wha-how…cat? Huh? He told himself, could all wizards do that? He looked at Benjamin, who seemed shocked as well. So, not common? He thought.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said, her eyes scanning the classroom. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
Everett raised his eyebrow. Did it involve turning into a cat? Could he turn into a cat? He never liked cats; they were rude animals, and-
Suddenly, the table was a pig, oinking around and squealing excitedly. The class burst into chatter, laughter, gasps, and-
Pigs? Pigs? Here? Pigs here? Pigs-Pigs, what-
With another tap of her wand, the pig was back into a table. That made absolutely no sense-
“Oh, cool, bacon!” He heard one student say, erupting in a little burst of laughter, but Everett just sat there, shocked. He felt his hair stand up on his arms, and he looked around.
It was that boy again, Nott. The two boys locked eyes, and Everett felt his mouth go dry. Nott was looking at him, dark eyes narrowed. Why was he looking at him like that? Everett felt unsettled as the boy hesitantly turned back to McGonagall. He must’ve been shaking his legs without realizing, because he felt another kick from Benjamin - when did that start?
Daphne was staring at him, brows furrowed. He realised his mouth was open, and suddenly he felt very flustered. Her mouth opened, and closed, then opened again.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked, and Everett swallowed. He must’ve looked like he had no idea what was going on. He nodded before going back to the lesson. He saw her still staring in the corner of his eye, but he wouldn’t look back. He didn’t want to pay attention to that, just the - the weird pig table thing.
“Transfiguration requires precision, concentration, and an understanding of both forms. What you’re changing from, and what you’re changing to.” McGonagall said, and as he heard the scribble of pencils-quills, quills- he quickly brought out his own, and began to write in his journal, a few pages past his notes to himself last night.
“Today, you will be turning a match into a needle, like so-” She said, holding a match in her hands. With the flick of her wand, it turned into a small silver needle, and Everett only realized by the slight glint it was making.
It was instantaneous, McGonagall staring intently at the match, without breaking eye contact, just like all spells he had read about so far.
“Focus, imagine a match, then a needle. Do not think of anything else. Tap the match with your wand, and hold that concentration. Concentrate.” She said, going over to her table and sitting down.
“You may begin.”
As McGonagall had said the words, the class erupted into a flurry. Some laughs, some loud talkers, prattling about how they would do it first, particularly Malfoy and Pansy. McGonagall went around, matches being placed on each desk, as kids scrambled.
“You know, I always wondered if I could turn a match into a needle,” Benjamin said, picking up the match.
“Really?”
“No.” He said, only for Everett to huff, a smile gracing his face as he took his own match. He brought his own wand to the match and held it.
And held it, held it, and held it…
After a few seconds, he felt terribly silly. He knew what a match was; he knew what a needle was. They were long, sometimes sharp. Mum knew how to sew with a needle; he was imagining hers. Copper, slightly worn down, but a needle. Sharp enough to prick him when he tried to pick it up.
“Mmmmmm, it's still a match, innit?” Benjamin said, Everett nodding. He had made minimal progress.
Match, match, match, to needle. Match to needle, needle, needle. Bollocks, what was the incantation? Did it need an incantation? He knew sometimes they didn’t.
His wand kept tapping at the blasted thing, the wood almost mocking him.
Seems like the rest of the class was on the same page, because after a few boasts, the class went still. A lot of frustrated sighs, a lot of matches, no needles. At least he wasn’t that far behind.
He breathed out, his wand holding still. Copper, slightly rusted. It felt good in his hands; he liked to rub his fingers on the edge, the point wasn’t dulled, but sharp. So sharp, and the sound it made when it pierced his old clothing was like hearing fabric ripped. But nothing ever ripped, nothing. It was old and had been in the house since he was born, and he once tried to use it to clean his fingernails. Warm, and rich, and reddish brown, and sharp and - a needle.
It was in his hands now, and he breathed out-he did it, he actually-
-Gratulations, Miss Granger. Everyone, Miss Granger had done it first.” He heard McGonagall say, and he looked over.
The bushy-haired girl was beaming, a bright smile on her face as she lifted the needle up, as a slight round of applause came from the Gryffindor side.
“Ten points will be awarded to Gryffindor. The rest of you, keep practicing.” McGonagall had said, going back to her desk. She hadn’t noticed, but the needle was in his hands now. Just like Mum’s. He pressed it into his palms; he’d hand it in after, and now he looked around.
Malfoy was jabbing the wand into the match furiously; it looked like he wanted to yell at somebody, probably upset that he wasn’t first. He didn’t want to take second place publicly with that mess to his left.
Daphne had ended up turning the match, not into a needle, but into a biscuit. He had read somewhere that transformed food wasn’t actually edible, so he felt rather bad for her. Not that he liked biscuits anyway. To his right, Benjamin had almost succeeded, the match halfway to a needle, but there was still some hesitation.
“Maybe try picturing a needle in your house?” Everett whispered, and Benjamin shrugged. “I’m trying, but it just won't budge!” the boy protested, before he noticed Everett's hand.
“Oh, you did it!” Benjamin exclaimed, rather loudly. All of a sudden, he saw several heads turn in his direction, McGonagall included.
He sheepishly held it up, and McGonagall nodded.
“Excellent, Mister Winters, ten points to Slytherin.” She said, as some of the Slytherins around him started to clap. He felt himself go red, but he heard one audible cheer from across the room, and noticed Granger, smiling at him and clapping.
He felt hot, his neck burning up, but he felt good. It was nice being applauded, and he hesitantly placed the needle back down on the table.
“The rest of you, you have ten minutes,” McGonagall said, as the class started to go back at it. At this point, Benjamin was twirling his wand uninterestingly, and Everett tilted his head.
“As long as I’m not the only one who doesn’t do it, I will take my time,” Benjamin said, as he tapped on the match-needle.
After a little bit, McGonagall announced the lesson was over. She assigned homework, much to everyone's annoyance, but Everett had been secretly overjoyed. Not because he liked homework, but because he felt like he was good at transfiguration now. It couldn’t have been a fluke, right?
The students began to exit the classroom, before he heard someone call him.
“Mister Winters! A word, please.” McGonagall had said, prompting Everett to freeze. Did he do something wrong? Granger was next to McGonagall, still beaming, before Everett walked up to them.
“Congratulations, you two, I always enjoy it when my students do well.” She said. It should have been warm, but Everett noticed the thin pursed lips. Everett caught on, noticing her tone, but Granger seemed not to, still smiling.
“However, I want to impress upon you that it is strictly forbidden for students to use magic at home.” She said curtly, causing Granger to frown.
“Professor? How did you know that we practiced magic?” Granger asked, and McGonagall nodded.
“It is hard for a first-year student to completely master transfiguration on their first day, Miss Granger. Looking at your two needles, I can safely guess that you two practiced at home, am I correct?” McGonagall asked, and Everett sheepishly nodded.
“Yes, Professor, I just thought that it would’ve been good to practice.” He said quietly, and McGonagall nodded.
“A common thing. I am not upset, just warning caution. I brought the two of you into Hogwarts; I don’t want to see you expelled. The points will stay. You are dismissed.” She said, nodding as the two turned back.
“Well, we did it! Congratulations to us!” Granger said, her voice still as fast as he remembered.
“I noticed our needles looked different; yours was bronze, I think? How come? What were you imagining, I mean - I imagined a needle, like the ones I’d see on the Television? You know, silver, but yours wasn’t-” Oh my God, hold on one second - “I mean, I always thought you were smart anyway. Like the train, I mean, that was quick thinking from you back then.”
Everett blinked, the train - he wanted to talk about the train-
“Oh, hold on one second! My friends are there, I’ll be back!” Hermione said cheerily, going over to Potter-She was friends with Potter? - and Weasley, who audibly groaned. Maybe not.
“What was that about?” Benjamin asked, startling him as he leaned on the wall.
“Oh-uh, nothing, I’ll tell you about it later. What do we have now?” He said. Too many people to tell Benjamin about McGonagall bringing him into magic.
“Defence against the Dark Arts,” Ben said casually, starting to walk off. Everett followed him.
The Dark Arts. That sounded menacing.